kayaking asia with fullmoon

House on Jacinto Road

noreply@blogger.com (fullmoon) — Wed, 26 Oct 2011 20:49:00 +0000

Opposite our rented house on Jacinto Road lived a family sunning coconuts. Each morning they spread the opened drupes in the sun to dry, shifting them as the sun moved across the sky. Sometimes the spread came up to our fenced gate. I wondered if they were for eating, and one day in no rush I asked. They were drying them to make coconut cooking oil.

Beyond the fenced gate was Jacinto Road. If one turned right it went towards the direction of the main coastal road leading to Bohol’s capital, Tagbilaran. When one turned left, it was a sloping road leading to Baclayon’s tourism center, where the kayak center was located.

Before I had the bicycle, I had to walk Jacinto Road twice a day to get to and fro the kayak center. I didn’t know exactly how far was the walk. It took a whole kretek - the first puff outside the door to the stub out just outside the market. In between slow puffs, it was easy to forget the easy efficiency of the bicycle, which took me less than 3 minutes of commute.

The walk was long and my eyes wondered and wandered.

Apart from the coconut family, I realized that 9am was really a very quiet time. There were not many people on Jacinto Road. The children were already learning in their classrooms. People were at work. There was still food in the fridge. Unless one’s work required the sun, like a kayaker... the heat would have already forced many indoors.

On Wednesday however, people woke up in anticipation. Every Wednesday was market day, where fresh seafood catches were brought in from surrounding coastal fishing villages. Baclayon’s palengke, or a public market, was especially lively. Hoards of vendors hawked just about everything. There was no shortage.

Baclayon’s tourism center, which was also where the kayak center was located, stood opposite the public market. If I walked, I would walk through the palengke, instead of around it. Perhaps the vendors were selling something new.

Before the palengke, about mid-way along the walk down Jacinto Road, were the two oldest bakeries in Baclayon, Osang's and Sampagita. Osang’s baked a delicious egg pastel broas the traditional way, over wooden stove in an old house. Dried cut logs were piled neatly outside Osang’s, to create fire for endless trays of broas. There was no attempt to be carbon-free. One can go in and see how these broas were prepared and buy them freshly baked.

These bakeries were founded opposite the second oldest church in Philippines. The Church of Immaculada Concepcion was built using slave laborers and cut coral stones, which had aged well in the tropics. The church faced the sea, its tower so high that when one launched the kayak, one’s sight was immediately turned to the bell tower. May protection and peace be with those out at sea, it seemed to project.

One of the enduring sights of the morning walk was the color of flowers growing by the road along the front of houses. Flowers of all kinds, some on single stalk, some grew as bunches, some burst in multitudes of colors, some grew on trees, while others opened among the wired fences. Some of them were amazing. One particular flower, the talampunay, was pointed out to me as a hallucinogenic plant. Another, the beautifully named dama de noche, would only open at night.

Other flowers looked very familiar. I remembered them in my grandfather's gardens when I was growing up in a kampong. Rosal, kampanilya, gumamela...back then I only knew them by their colors - white, yellow, red...

In the evenings when I walked back to the rented house, there would be many people out and about. The sun was setting and the air had cooled. Children were running about the church’s courtyards and youths were tapping their basketballs. The street hawkers were lighting their charcoal grills. Smoke was rising from burning leaves and weeds. The familiar - even nostalgic - smell of burning leaves made me walked even slower, inhaling deeply.

Our neighboring house, rented by a Japanese, had a Ylang Ylang tree. It swayed with the evening breeze. It was a tree I had never seen before. Some little yellow flower fingerlings scattered on the lawn, black ants were all over the incredibly sweet-smelling flowers.

Walking on Jacinto Road - even if just traveling to work - is about marking distances with puffs of smoke, scrutinizing the faces of the people, being drawn by the colors, smelling the past, discovering, slowing down time...On those days spent there, efficiency of travel was certainly not appreciated.

Coconut Home

noreply@blogger.com (fullmoon) — Thu, 28 Jul 2011 16:36:00 +0000

It is with great sadness, when I learned from Kai last week that Coconut Home would be re-developed.

Just about 10+ years ago, Chan and I found ourselves hauling our kayak bags off a tuk-tuk at the sandy steps of Coconut Home. We were greeted by Kai, Bang Liew, and Beern. 15 simple wooden chalets set around the perimeter of a green field with swaying coconut trees. A balcony that looks out to the sea and a huge toilet for washing kayak. It was our kind of place.

We stayed at Chalet No. 1, a chalet that I was to go back again and again for many more years. From Coconut Home, we discovered the incredible beauty of Thalen canyons, Ko Hong, and the northern islands. At that time, we were already on the water for 10 days, paddling from the Malaysian border and on the way to Phuket. We started this trip bitterly disappointed with Burma junta's decision to revoke our permit to kayak the Irrawaddy River. But really, what would we have expected dealing with them? Perhaps the disappointment carried over, and Chan and I had a big bust up at Coconut Home and he left. Anyway all these were detailed in my journal of that trip.

Alone and crushed, I was nevertheless serenaded each evening by the amazing sunsets on Tha Len Bay. I promoted it to many people that Tha Len Bay has the most beautiful sunsets in Krabi. It felt I was meant to be marooned there after all. I went out daily for a paddle, sometimes 2-3 times a day to the canyons, just to be feel less lonely.There was no phone network, no tv, no internet, nothing to connect me to others...once back to Coconut Home, I simply carried the kayak to my balcony and settled on its wooden chair to write or read.

In 2003 I was back and met Hana as a curious 2 year old. She is now 9 years old and learning to speak 4 languages. With English, she told me "I want an ipad2 for my birthday!". In 2004 when the Tsunami hit, Coconut Home was extensively damaged. It took me 2 heart-breaking months to find out that everyone is OK.

Over the years, I have brought others to Coconut Home. Many students and paddlers have stayed there as I figure out how to make them fall in love with the waters of Krabi. Not everyone love that place and most are indifferent. Coconut Home is too basic, too old, too unconnected, too remote...

I joked to myself Coconut Home will be one of my marked refuge if I ever descend into a depression, which thankfully had not happened.

By and large for the past 10 years, Coconut Home and its surroundings have been something stable and unchanging in my life. This is something I treasure and I would miss it terribly when it is finally gone.

Bye!

Danau Toba Morning

noreply@blogger.com (fullmoon) — Sun, 19 Jun 2011 00:11:00 +0000

Early Sunday morning in danau toba on the first days of the dry season. Sun rays already brightening up a section of the vast Harrangaol crater. Alogo-bolon, loosely means "sometimes winds" up to 40km/hr blew. Vast areas of the crater go up in smoke this season, blackening verdant hills.

Huey

kayakasia

Waltzing Bethena on the Alas

noreply@blogger.com (fullmoon) — Sun, 29 May 2011 12:17:00 +0000

Bashing into a waterfall along Alas river to cleanse, clean, and clear!

The candle burned for the entire night and melted into a solid wax puddle on the sand. I picked it up and threw it into the smoldering ashes. Instantly there was smoke drifting upwards; still windless after an entire night.

It was morning along the Alas. We sliced up the bread Halim had baked a day before.

"Good German bread!" I commended him.

The confluence campsite along the Alas river

We had talked all night about kayaking, rivers, forests, and more kayaking; ok maybe sometimes women. Pretty mind-bloring stuff if you are not into paddling. Mainly it was talk about dreams of what ifs, what should be, how nice ifs, etc etc. Let's build a place here, get some kayaks there, get people interested, protect this that, etc.

It was as if a paddler's life is always chasing dreams and shadows. No one wants life to be always scrapping for the cheapest transport, sleeping at the lowest prices or camping free in the wilderness, and eating out of newspaper. That 100,000 Rps you lost ! We sniggered that sometimes the only thing that keep paddlers going was the fraking water, as if water cleansed out the despair, lament, and wait.

"I don't think we can run a kayak trip here.", I drew on yet another kretek. It felt wonderful to pollute only the pristine air.

ALAS was a successful classic river run, now it has to be a ragtime waltz.

Halim posing, for sure..

We packed up swiftly and hit the water again.

It was a beautiful 2 hours paddle within the park's boundaries. There were waterfalls after waterfalls, and green hills after green hills. It was more of an indulgence, more a feast for the eyes than paddling.

"We got 2 more days. Someone told me the Singkil swamps are very beautiful.", Halim tried to persuade me with his crazy idea again during a lunch break.

"Halim, I am not going to paddle into the crocodile swamps on this trip! Maybe next time."

"I like to see crocodiles in the wild. That would be so cool! So we are taking out today?"

"We will never make it there in 2 days anyway. And it is going to be a crazy maze of channels down there."

"Imagine paddling at night inside crocodile territory!", Halim replied gleefully.

Once we hit the park's boundary, the chainsaws yelled. The scorched earth policy leaving maniac scars on the lush valleys. Hard to make out which was destruction and creation. Was it the forest for a stalk of bananas?

"Hey yeah, you were sad not to be born in Pink Floyd's time. But at least you see these forest now. Next generation has no Pink Floyd and no forest!", Halim sometimes make sense.

From the chainsaws, it was another 2 hours or so to our take-out at the old loggers settlement of Gelombang, which according to Halim, we should get out quickly.

A tall waterfall

Like idiots, we were ripped off again in Gelombang for our transport to Subulusalam, then onwards to Berastagi. An Acehnese walked up the street, talked to us, and bang! this short guy was suddenly richer than us. We even shook his hand like a long-lost abang and said farewells !

By the time we reached Berastagi, in a kijang driven like an ambulance, we were out of money. Suddenly Mie Kuah was the only hot item on the menu. Some money was eventually sent up from Medan.

More? This one was hidden

I remembered that on our last hour on the Alas, a small baby snake struggled to swim across the river in strong flow. From where it came from, were logs of felled trees amid a fire burning. To where it was going, was a slope of thick forest. Not far away, a motorized sampan parked. A bamboo shelter was being built by mustached men furiously smoking their kreteks.

For the snake, forest, or chainsaw men, nature of survival is their business. Which will be the one who escape? That was how the Alas played - laughable, tragic, beautiful, inspiring...

For paddlers? Keep the raindrops falling, and let them flow into the river and the sea...

wild figs plucked with my paddle

The Alas Gorge

noreply@blogger.com (fullmoon) — Fri, 27 May 2011 03:12:00 +0000

One of the many cleared slopes along the Alas River.

ALAS river flows rapidly from the highlands around Gunung Leuser in Aceh, through innumerable valleys, and enters the Indian Ocean at Singkil.

It was the first Sumatran river commercialized for rafting in the late eighties by Americans. It was so popular hundreds of Achenese were employed to support the influx of tourists.

More local rafting companies wanted a slice of the action, offering cheaper and cheaper trips. The illegal loggers were alarmed by tourists' cameras. One night, some loggers poured petrol around the house of local rafting employees and threw down a light. That fire and cheap trips extinguished the golden era of Alas rafting trips. Now only a couple of rafting operators are still offering trips, and the Acehnese are back to chopping down their forests.

All these slash and burn practices can be seen for the first 2 hours as we paddled down the Alas from Sigala-gala. Entire hills and valleys stripped of tree cover and replaced with banana trees.

"They chopped the trees, rolled whatever they could down the river, and burned those they couldn't move. Why didn't they use those logs? And planting bananas!?", Halim was livid.

The villagers had been practicing slash and burn for millenniums. But motorized boats and chainsaws were the game changers for the hills here. In one day, entire slope could easily be cleared. But then again, what we had paddled past was outside the National Park boundary. It could be argued the villagers had every right to make the best of where they were living.

About 2 hours from Sigalala, the valleys narrowed so much that the river looked like entering into a gorge. This was the famous "Alas gorge". The valleys constricted the river into this narrow waterway and rush it through like a jet.

Entering the "gorge" of the Alas River. Been waiting for years to see this place I heard about for so long!

Alas river was already a fast flowing river on the wide plains, at a rate of about 7km/hr. In the narrow valleys, the flow rate sometimes increase to 10km/hr, resulting in an exhilarating ride. There was no need to paddle. There were many beautiful waterfalls along this scenic route. It was just an amazing feeling to paddle close under them, and let the sprays bathed you in cold, clean water.

Halim admiring one of the numerous waterfalls we encountered on the river.

"Rapids!", Halim shouted as we heard the roar of water.

"Class 3, 3+. I want to tie down my barang barang. If I remembered, only standing waves. Biggest one on this stretch of the river. Should be fun!", Halim was already making for the eddy looking for a place to tie down his gear.

Halim in his element on a big rapids after exiting the gorge.

Kutacane

noreply@blogger.com (fullmoon) — Thu, 26 May 2011 04:19:00 +0000

Can't help paying attention! But I can't find the side emergency exit.

"Empat ratus! Juah!", the driver frowned.

I hate being ripped off, so I was fuming when Halim took out another 100,000 rupiah to give to the Acehnese driver. He has asked for US$40 for a 20km ride to the river put-in. I had earlier given the driver US$30 and also paid for his lunch!

"You are too kind Halim!"

But because of that rip-off, we were down to US$80, about to enter a river that flows into a crocodile swamp, and with no idea of how to get back to Medan. We had earlier took a one-way ticket on a prop plane to Kutacane airport on Nusantara Buana (NBA) Airlines. The ticket on this Government-subsidised-Aceh-appeasement-policy airline was US$15 one way.

On the tarmac, the CASA 212-300 plane stalled because there was a lack of power.

While waiting, I couldn't help recalling the slogans of another Government-run Merpati Airlines. Merpati's tagline used to be "Get the Falling (Feeling)" and their schedule was so unreliable they earned another "I'll fly if I want to". And on that day, I saw another slogan "Nice way to die (fly)".

I wondered what was NBA's slogan.

First look of Alas river bending on the Lawe Alas valleys.

Sincerely, NBA's service was excellent. We checked in 50kg of kayaking gear without problems and they have staff constantly providing timely information on the status of our flights. Delayed for an hour, delayed for 25 minutes, all with unreserved apologies. When the CASA finally took off for the short 35 minutes flight over the highlands of Sumatra, no one betrayed relief.

"The roads in Aceh are one the best in Sumatra!", Halim pronounced as we drove of out the airport.

They are certainly much better than the roads from Medan to Toba. The results of years of appeasement policies by Jakarta to the Acehnese to blunt their rebellion.

"The NGOs pumped a lot of money into Aceh. So don't expect anything cheap here."

"How many days are we going for?", I asked?

"2,3,4 ?!"

OK, so just stock up on water and lots of kretek; perhaps 4 packets of Indomie. Halim had baked a loaf of bread and I had some MREs. We hardly had any time to prepare for this trip after the Toba trip ended yesterday.

It was a hot afternoon. We stepped out of the car 20km later at "Pipit Beach" at Sigala-gala. It was at the end of a washed away road. Acehnese men were smoking under the limited shades around. The high banks had been washed away by a recent flood. The ALAS river was flowing furiously fast.

Halim seemed unsure. Sealed entry in sit-on-top inflatables?

"OK, let's start now. Here!", as I began to unload our gear.

We want to go to that rock! Negotiating car rental prices outside the airport using rocks and lines.

The Longest Crossing

noreply@blogger.com (fullmoon) — Sat, 07 May 2011 13:23:00 +0000

I did not realize how quiet the sea can be when it is windless. The moment you stop, when the paddle is no longer disturbing the water, the silence squeezes you from all sides. Surprisingly silence has a high pitch kind of ringing tone. It even has a weight that presses down on you. The thai word for silence is niap, which at the end of its consonant, starts where silence can.

During the long crossings, what you can only do is to grind down time. The incense of time burns for 8-9 hours. Every hour, every minute, every second... you grind it down by singing or you count the number of strokes you put in. 100 strokes gain you about 100 meters on the sea. 1,000 strokes just about gain you a kilometer. If the current is good.

If you sing, some songs you sing you can stretch them, from 3 minutes to 5 minutes for 500 meters. Or you can do an extended solo of the song to make it 10 minutes and you gain a kilometer. It does not matter what lyrics you sing, it is the rhythm you want. The fleeting rhythm makes your kayak seems lighter.

There is no use looking at your watch. In fact it is best not to look often at the watch. You will be pretty disappointed and perhaps de-motivated when you realize your sense of time and the fatigue you feel do not match up.

When there is no scenery, no boats, no wind, no bird, what else can you look at? Sometimes you lie all the way back, face up, and look at the clouds. It gives a sense of blue serenity amid the heat.

If it is daylight, you can make out the faint outline of the island that you are supposed to reach in 7-8 hours. That is where I am going? That's hope? You want the island to get bigger; see it more clearly. But it does not get bigger until you get very close.

When the crossing is long, often you have to paddle into the night.

If it is night, there are plenty of lights and you let the lights of the island draw you in. At night you become more aware of your perception. The kayak seems to move faster, the light seems to be nearer, your breathing seems louder, your rashguard seems to stick closer to your skin...

Every hour there is a need to stop to drink, eat, pee... and it is important to laugh out - just to release the tension and strain. Make a sound, say something in the radio, hear a human voice, just so to know that you are not alone.

A 40km crossing is about the edge of what a kayak team can safely do. At this edge, tempers will flare and demons can emerge. More often than not, a long crossing strips away the persona and brings out the human in each of us.

It's wonderful to know, 40km later, that we are all the same.

A long crossing is hard. But as long as you believe, a long crossing can be done with a wing and prayer.

I still believe I hear

hidden beneath the palm trees

your voice tender and deep

like the song of a dove

oh night enchantress

divine rapture

delightful thought

divine intoxication, sweet dream

in the clear starlight

I still believe I see

in between the long sails

of the warm night breeze

oh night...etc.

~ Bizet

Should we ban or allow kayaking in mangroves?

noreply@blogger.com (fullmoon) — Wed, 27 Apr 2011 18:33:00 +0000

photo by Moira

Ever since the series of SKB1 paddle, I have received encouragement from people who would like to do more of such kayaking, and reservations from authorities who are concerned about kayaks’ impact inside the mangroves.

When I first paddled into our mangroves more than 10 years ago, I remembered mostly fear of the mud and ‘dirtiness’ of the mangroves. I felt an urge to paddle out immediately.

I have since been enlightened about the mangroves from passionate nature lovers I paddled with. They opened my eyes to a wonderful intriguing world.

"I see you".

photo by Kathy

For instance, the elegantly named Rhizophora disperses not seeds, but nurture live babies on its branches until they are ready to stand on their own. Long, slender, and shaped like a rocket, I used to think the shapes have to do with their need to shoot down into the mud. But that is not so. The rocket-shaped babies had evolved to enable them to walk later on.

Babies?

These Rhizophora mangrove trees give birth to live tree babies so we don’t refer to them as seeds. The mother tree allows her baby trees to grow and stay with her until they are long enough to take root.

When they drop, these babies cannot walk. They can only float. They drift with the winds and tides until they are ready to stand and grow legs. Some take a week to stand, while others take a month. How they stand? The sharper tip is water absorbent while the rounded end is not. The tip will gradually absorb water until it dips heavier than the rounded end. And like a magic wand, the babies can stand upright in the water, ready to walk.

With sunshine, the first leaves sprout from the top and legs from the bottom. When it hits land, it quickly hauls itself upright by sticking more legs into mud.

photo by KC

Inside the mangroves this time, I watch these babies swaying as the wind blow. I wait in hope to see one of them fall, putting my hand on the cold bark of the tree. As I wait, I see interesting snails all over the trunk of the mangrove. For those who love maths or beautiful things, you should pause to examine these little creatures carefully. For the spiral of their shells reveals the secret of aesthetics and beauty, long use by painters, architects and perhaps even plastic surgeons!

The kayak sits in silence inside the mangrove, so quiet in fact, that you can watch the whole mangrove community going about their morning activities. The snails are painfully slow to watch but the birds are always very active in the morning.

The egrets and herons always have that wide-eyed alert look about them. They are languid, even when they fly; no hurry. The Kingfisher on the other hand, is the more paranoid bird. They keep a distance, guarding their privacy. Green pigeons are the noisy ones up in the trees, rustling about, and chasing each other. There are many other birds I could not identify.

The kayak does not disturb these birds, or even the mighty Brahminy kites. The birds continue to roost, or draw fish after fish from the rich mangrove river.

photo by Mel

The amphibious creatures are the shy ones. The best way to spot otters is patience and low light. Just sit quietly on your kayak and wait. For safety, the otters crossed the exposed mudflats in a hurry. They surprised me with their size, speed, and numbers. A pack of 10 almost galloping at full speed across the mud flats during the lowest tide of the month. Their hunched back heaved up and down as they run.

The ugly Goby fish, or commonly known as mudskippers, are not only shy, they startled. They conceal themselves one moment and then make sudden and abrupt movements. Many times, they can give paddlers a fright, because it is so quiet inside the mangroves.

Even more elusive than the mudskippers are the mud lobsters. Quite impossible to spot and quite an impossible scientific name to remember - tha las si na ano ma la. For a creature no more than 30cm long, they can build up a cone shaped mounds that can reached up to 3 meters high.

If you keep paddling into the river, you will discover 2 other amazing trees. The Puzzle Nut Tree and the Nipah palm. The Puzzle Nut Tree must be seen to be believed. How the tree managed to arrange its seeds inside a sphere fruit is a puzzle wrapped in delicious brown. 12-18 irregularly-shaped interlocking seeds fitting perfectly in spherical dimensions. Once you messed up this 3D fruit puzzle, it takes some figuring to put the pieces back together.

As for the Nipah palm, it is for your own survival that you should learn to recognize this plant. Their leaves are weaved to make attap roofs shingles, the flowers (sap) fermented to make vinegar, and tappers collect palm sap to make palm wine. Famously, their fruits are preserved as sweet dessert that everyone loves to eat. Locally, vendors sold half a dozen of these “attap chees” on a satay stick or most commonly add them to ice kachang.

So if we are somehow blasted back to Stone Age or stranded, this one tree can provide shelter, food, and even wine to drown your sorrows!

To see all of these, one would normally have to trek into the mangrove at low tide. But with a kayak, you can silently glide into this river wonderland, blending in, watching this unique community go about its daily life. A kayak is non-impactful and borrowed just 10cm of water at any one time. No emissions, no noise, no trampling of the ground.

There still places in Singapore one can discover nature. Not just being in nature, but actually discover something about the workings of nature. And such places are sometimes only accessible with a kayak. At this one such place, trees are not just trunk and leaves, but problem solving organisms cleverly adapting themselves to a harsh world.

I would love to show you such amazing trees and other wonderful living creatures. But only with a kayak can I take you where no roads will take you; into the little lagoons and shallow streams. Using our own power and curiosity, a new world of wonder opens up undisturbed.

_____

thanks to Ria Tan, Hang Chong, Kwok Peng, Moira, and other nature-lovers-kayakers who ‘discover’ for me the wonderful world of the mangrove. for without them, my eyes would still be closed that my mind see with narrow ignorance.

ko wtl.jpg

noreply@blogger.com (fullmoon) — Sun, 17 Apr 2011 23:28:00 +0000

Yesterday the sea was so calm and windless that most of us dozed off during paddling. It was hot! The perk was finding a seafood restaurant for a sumptuous lunch in the middle of the park!

40km yesterday and landed when the huge Moon was rising just after 6pm.

Setting off now for a 55km paddle, and full moon night crossing to Ko Tao. Its the longest crossing most of us had ever done...

cheers,
Huey

kayakasia

Start of A10!

noreply@blogger.com (fullmoon) — Sun, 17 Apr 2011 00:37:00 +0000

Start of the Samui Archipelago!

cheers,
Huey

kayakasia

Surely in Krabi!

noreply@blogger.com (fullmoon) — Fri, 15 Apr 2011 00:05:00 +0000

Gd morning from Krabi!

Its blindingly hot here! I am increasing the amount of water we carry. Please tell me on one is allergic to nuts, cause that would be the main expedition snacks.

Everywhere like a ghost town due to Songkran. Mobs on back of pick-ups with a drum of water searching for victims. Cars vandalised with colored caramels(?!) and flour by kids.

Evidence of great flood in form of uprooted trees at a small river. Some sandbags yet to be removed in front of a supermarket. Empty shelves in 7-11 - the instant noodles shelves.

Big carnival by the riverside walk celebrates the new year. Wish you could see that, but we are not staying the night in Krabi town.

Raided 2 bookshops and regretted that I wasted luggage and brought a book along. Could spend hours in them browsing; some cool old books.

One, "the divine wind" by Commander Nakajima, tells the true story of the first kamikaze plane squads being formed in the Philippines. What went through the minds of these young guns who volunteered... "One's eyes must not shut your eyes nearing impact, otherwise you may missed the target."

Another tells of a half-Singaporean ex-MIT geek who made millions playing blackjack in Vegas. He and his team brought the house down!

Of course, bought the only Feynman book there, even though I must have read it a couple of times. When he stole the door of a fellow dorm-mate...his nobel prize is well-deserved. Its $8!

So, 4kg of books added to the kayak. Must be expecting lots of reading time. Surely, you must be joking Mr Murphy!

cheers,
Huey

kayakasia

Archipelagos

noreply@blogger.com (fullmoon) — Tue, 08 Feb 2011 16:20:00 +0000

Hope everyone had a good start to 2011 !

For those who had already a chance to get back on the water, Jan and Feb has the clearest water and latest daylight. Despite the rain, it is a wonderful paddling period, as the monsoon also blew in cool Siberian winds. For those still dry, a good day to paddle is always too late, so just get on it.

Southeast asia is the world's largest archipelago, with over 25,000 islands. Of these, perhaps 5,000 of them have unique islandscape or cultural merit that just makes one's desire burning. In the kayakasia's universe,Thailand has three archipelagos and Philippines has eleven. [the word archipelago is used simply to describe a grouping of islands, and not in the geographic sense]

Singapore used to have over 50 islands. Now, over 40 of them remained; the rest lost to combination and reclamation with other islands. I am tempted to assigned a number to Singapore, but how? Perhaps many many years later, a huge lagoon will be built to encircle the entire southern shores, starting from East Coast and ending near Pasir Panjang. 15 new eco islands would be created off East Coast. This lagoon use green technology so advanced that all sea life within are preserved and made to flourish. The biggest man-made marine park in the world, half the size of Singapore. An archipelago in a lagoon. It would be an attraction worth a paddle and a number.

As of now, that is pure fantasy. But the idea of carrying enough gear and supplies, exploring island to island, all with your own power, time,... we can still fulfill some of this workplace dreams on a weekend trip to our wonderful southern islands.

Further away, yet still link by the common drain outside your door, are numerous archipelagos yet to be explored...

Into The Wind (13/14)

noreply@blogger.com (fullmoon) — Wed, 29 Dec 2010 13:43:00 +0000

Our kayaks facing the wind and wave on Morong Beach Cave Camp (E9), Sabtang Island. Photo by Kat.

I was hanging in there, my right leg inside my kayak, trying to get it unstuck. When I couldn't kicked out, I turned myself over to get some air and pulled the kayak towards me. What was the fubbles problem?

I felt inside the kayak for my feet, and discovered that the shoe was impaled by an aluminum pole piece. I roughly unzipped the damn right shoe that was trapping me.

Moira assisted my capsize recovery routine one more time. I climbed in and sat there moving my bare right foot against the cold, soft, and wet texture of my kayak. The sea tagged me...

As far as moonlight shone, were crown of waves between us and Basco. But it was amazing how the sea changed when you changed. It was as if the sea has settled down just enough for you to see a way towards Basco.

I took out my new $25 cockpit cover, sliced a gap down the middle, and wore it around my waist as a makeshift sprayskirt. The sea did not require more determination, just more common sense.

"Going back is just hard slog, isn't it?", Moira asked.

"We will make it. Just take more time than usual that's all.", I replied.

It was almost 8pm. The ITRANSA was turning around with 3 new passengers on board. We had already spent 7 hours. How long would it take for us to paddle the 13km to Basco in these conditions? 3, 4, 5 hours? Hard slog?

"Come on Moira, let's paddle into the wind."

And into the trilling waves of the virtuoso sea. I liked your presto!

I started singing…as a way of marking our moving inches in tune. Never once did the sea eased off its bow. That night, she just couldn't care less.

The team had waited all night for news but none was forthcoming. At 11.52pm, they decided to test the sat phone again to see if it was working properly.

Amos pointed the Sat phone to the nearest satellite but Carol's repeated attempts to call him was unsuccessful.

Ring…. ring!

"Pick up the phone! Could be them!", the team shouted. But the ring tone stopped before Amos could respond.

"It works. I just called it from outside.", a bewildered Joseph walked in from outside holding his phone.

Just at that instance, their radio crackled to life "Base, this is huey."

At 11.56pm, the last 2 kayakers paddled into the small bay at Basco.

~ end ~

Edge of Region Song 1: The Batanes Islands

10-21 December, 2010

_______________________

Acknowledgements (14/14)

The trinity of sea, wind, and waves.... yes, the experience was divine.

The entire expedition team have been magnificent in their response to unbelievable delays, waiting, more waiting, and then hairy sea paddling conditions. They got booted by the law of Murphy, then discovered the law of Patrick, went with the flow, and made crucial decisions for a happy ending. The team kept up the humor and spirit. It was impossible to paddle Batanes in Winter without such a fabulous team.

Joseph (logistic manager), Didi, and Val (Philippines Kayaking Association) provided critical background support during the course of the whole event. Dealing with the local Philippines authorities and politicians were not easy and always tricky.

Governor Gato of Batanes, Congresswoman Abad (Batanes), Dan (Batanes Tourism Department), and Director Bless (Philippines Department of Tourism Region II) for constantly showing concern, support, and understanding the spirit of an expedition.

On Sabtang Island, Mayor Babalo, Mr Pinding, and Mr Figuearo.

CPT Delfin and crew of the ITRANSA. The best gentlemen in Batanes!

For well-wishers and readers who thought we were missing and rescued as reported on the internet, thanks for your prompt and sincere messages. The Philippines Coast Guard crafted and released a fantastic Praise Report!

Finally, Mdm Dely of the Shanedel's Inn, for so many things you gave us...the food, puppies, care, prayers, patience, advice, hospitality, and super audio system playing hours of classic 70's music (maybe less Dire Straits in the playlist on paddling days). See you in Singapore soon!

For SEAIR, appreciate your assistance but you kept us waiting for too long! We almost turned into cows...

photo by moira

Worst Case Scenario (12/14)

noreply@blogger.com (fullmoon) — Tue, 28 Dec 2010 14:49:00 +0000

The team, silhouetted, with Sabtang Island in the background. Photo by Amos.

Where expeditions go, Murphy's Law follows. And thus far we never had to replace the word "will" with "has". On that night, the 'has' was taken inside the context. In Chan's plain speak, it was only to err on the side of caution.

When Chan received my delayed text at 9.46pm, Joseph was particularly excited that there was finally news. Chan had to calm him down and explained that the text was probably sent sometime ago. In any case he reasoned, the text just indicated intention, but not location, nor landing confirmation.

"Let's plan for the worst, and organize a big search tomorrow.", Chan and Amos called everyone together.

What were the scenarios? If we can paddle, it would be a lost contact situation and all that was needed was re-establishing contact. If we can't paddle, we were drifting, presumably further from land as the hours went by. That required a boat on the water to get in range for transmitting the radio, or even a plane for fastest search.

They took out the big map and started plotting the timeline, calculated the current flow, tidal flow, and wind direction. All these will help establish a drift pattern and narrow the area of search. After an hour of discussion and planning, the team decided on a search plan.

At 6am the next morning, a spotter boat with 3 team members will search the waters around northern Batan Island. At 7am, another 3 members will search the waters off Sabtang Island. K and YH will stay at base to monitor the sat phone and radio, and YH will also ask about renting the Cessna plane parked at Basco airport for an aerial search.

This was all they could do. It had been a long night.

Dely (proprietress of Shanedel's, our base) thought otherwise. She called up her sisters at church and urged them to pray. Her prayers had been heard before, in a similar situation. Her faith is strong.

Chan lighted up and walked to the balcony. Half his mind was pushing out thoughts about news breaking, and the other half brought back memories of all the past experiences we had shared.

He drew a heavy puff of his kretek and looked out from the balcony. He remembered how I had asked him to buy an extra packet of my favorite after taste, in case there was a delay. Later, Chan told me he placed his half-smoked kretek upright in a flowerpot overlooking the sea...

Hang in there buddy.

The Turning Point (11/14)

noreply@blogger.com (fullmoon) — Tue, 28 Dec 2010 01:41:00 +0000

"A rainbow showed up the day the kayaks arrived", said Kat, and overlooked the ITRANSA (right) moored at Basco port. Photo by Bimo.

"Let's head for Batan Island.", Moira suggested.

"Crazy! Batan Island is 15km away and Sabtang is 7.76km away. Better chance to head for Sabtang than Batan."

"I am not so good with waves coming behind. I am more stable meeting waves head-on. Capsizing takes up a lot of our time.", Moira pursued further.

OK, I can see some sense in her logic. We were making little headways inside the triangle. What little progress we made were claimed back by the waves and we lost precious time responding to capsizes and bailing out water. I took another look at the GPS to make sure the distance was correct.

"I hope Kat and Bimo are OK."

"I am sure they are. Kat's homing instinct is very strong. Anyway people have strong homing instinct. Ask them to paddle home and they have lots of energy.", Moira was certainly not looking forward to go back to Sabtang.

"You are sure? It would take us a longer time to paddle to Batan. We may be on the water for a long time, against the wind and current.", I was convincing myself.

"I think the current has changed. I am more confident paddling with waves coming from in front."

That was all I needed to hear… more confident, more happy, more energy… hell man…Comparing hot water and clean bed to camping cold on the beach, which would give us more motivation?

Think a different angle, brain!

"OK, let's go Batan. Follow me!", I turned my kayak towards the wind and waves and paddled forward with some defiance and renewed hope.

10 minutes later, I found myself climbing a huge wave. Just when I thought it would lift me over its crest, it tipped my kayak backwards. The wave broke and a rush of water came crashing down, rolling my kayak violently over its side.

Normally with a PFD on, it takes little effort to float back to the surface after capsize. But this time, I felt I was underwater for a longer time. My right leg was still inside the cockpit, and no matter how I kicked, I could not dislodge myself from the kayak.

That extra underwater seconds made me realize I was stuck.

High Sea Pluck Up (10/14)

noreply@blogger.com (fullmoon) — Mon, 27 Dec 2010 13:29:00 +0000

K, YK, and YH rafted up in calmer waters, facing the China seas, less than 300 meters from Basco.

At 7.30pm, the ITRANSA was nearing the evac co-ordinates, Amos stood out of the cabin onto the deck. The kayakers would be marked by strobe lights. But with the waves the size like buses rolling up and down, it required luck to meet their lights when they are on top of the waves.

Amos motioned the steersman to slow the boat. As the engines stalled, the rest of the crew stood up and took positions around the boat, tip-toeing on the edge of the gunwale for a better look.

The 3 kayakers had long suspected the light of the ITRANSA some half an hour back. To them, the boat could not come fast enough for them to verify.

"Go there!", Amos stepped inside the cabin and pointed the steersman towards faint reddish and whitish flickering strobes in the darkness

The ITRANSA was built by CPT Delfin as a sturdy cargo boat to survive and excel the harsh 35km Batan-Itbayat crossing. Its hull was craved higher than most, or depending on how you see it, the cabin was lower than most, such that one is almost cocooned inside the boat. It was like a traditional Ivantan's house, which was built inside a hole in the ground, so that only the roof is exposed to the wind.

On the gunwale of the ITRANSA, the drop to the sea is between 2-4 meters, depending on whether the boat was on top of a wave or not.

When the kayakers saw the boat, they thought of it as a Vietnamese pirate boat, with dangling pirates ready to mount. The crew had hooked a leg to the gunwale and dangled by its side, ready to snatch the kayakers out of the water. The kayakers could hear many people shouting on the boat. Then they thought they heard Amos shouting "rope! rope!". It was a confirmation and relief to them that it was the evac boat.

The ITRANSA went around them, putting its search light on them, as if surveying a prey, All the kayakers could see were many hands stretching out towards them against the bright yellowish search light. As the ITRANSA leaned closer, they were shocked that the boat was so high, and wondered how on earth - even - were they getting up.

The steersman turned the boat to face Batan Island, and on the kayaker's port (left) side, to shield them from the pounding waves. All the crew immediately clambered over the starboard (right) side to reach for the kayakers. This caused the boat to list, and the kayakers could see the entire deck of the ITRANSA whenever the starboard dipped into the sea. The mighty ITRANSA looked ready for capsize.

Such high waves were more risky for the boat than the kayaks. CPT Delfin knew it had to be pluck and go. He had full confidence in his crew. The boat was rocking violently, so the pluck up had to be precisely timed - at that moment the boat heaved low enough for the crew to touch the outstretched hands of the kayakers.

The crew worked their way into the raft. YK, nearest to them, was hauled up first, then YH. When the last kayaker was plucked up, CPT Delfin was shocked to see it was K. He made an instinctive gentleman apology for bringing her up last. He could not believed a girl to be among the kayakers in these conditions.

On the ITRANSA, the kayakers were kept in the cabin and heaped with straw mats and blankets. A crew lowered the blinds to protect them from the incessant sea sprays. Amos directed the crew to retrieve the aimless kayaks, which can weigh more than 100kg when flooded.

At one corner of the dark seas, one kayak broke away from the grip of an eye, and like a message in a bottle, began it's long journey home.

The Itbayat Current (9/14)

noreply@blogger.com (fullmoon) — Mon, 27 Dec 2010 01:49:00 +0000

Map showing currents and wind direction on Dec 18, 2010 in the vicinity of the Sabtang Triangle.

20 minutes after Joseph received a status update call from Bimo, at 5.35pm, he received another call. But the speaker was hardly comprehensible and the phone got misconnected after a few 'hellos'. The same person must have been trying for the next few moments, more calls came in but connection was unsuccessful.

Then he received a text from YK activating the evac boat, together with the GPS coordinates. This must be the reason why Chan wanted me to be on Batan Island asap, he thought. He was glad he was well on the way back to base, and hope the AT has arrived at base.

For the 3 kayakers adrift, it was the numbing cold from the wind and waves that kept them huddled together. YK had forgotten his splash jacket back at base and all he wore was his thin rash guard, which was good for sun protection but not for the cold winter night of Batanes. K and YH forced him to eat to keep warm. But YK could hardly hold down his food.

He cursed his phone, which had chosen this time to hang. He took it out carefully from the dry pouch and punch in an updated GPS coordinates to Joseph. When the phone died completely, he thought it must be one lucky night!

Every light they spied seemed to be a speeding boat coming for them. But they knew it would take time to organize the evac.

"Keep you head up! So that the boat can see your headlamp.", YH lifted his head to K.

Wave after wave crashed over them, flooding their kayaks, soaking them to their core, and de-heating them. K turned to her left to wipe the splashes off YH's face with her hands. If only the lights of Basco reflected on his face was so near.

At this time, 9.3km southwest of where the 3 kayakers were rafted, my kayak was finally bailed and afloat. I jumped back into the kayak and breathed a sigh of relief. I checked the GPS and regretfully we had drifted a further 1km away from Sabtang Island.

"Do you have an Ikea bag with you?", I asked.

"Yes, deep inside the kayak. Want to get it?", Moira answered.

"Never mind.", I had wanted to deploy it as a sea anchor to stop the drift and buy time to think my way out of the triangle. There was a river of black clouds in the sky, flowing from far away and over the Sabtang Island. I hoped it was not about to storm.

It was so comfortable rafted up, having the stability, and companionship. What were the options? Going to Sabtang was trying with the time-wasting capsizing. We have enough food, water, and batteries for maybe 2 days floating on the sea to wait for current to change. But that would worry the AT to hell. Batan was 15km away. Sabtang still seemed the best option, but how to get across the Triangle?

"The lights of Batan Island seemed nearer. That's strange…", I looked up and saw the lights of Ivana, Mahatao, and the Basco port beckoning us. Compared to the Sabtang lighthouse, these Batan lights were brighter and looked nearer.

"The current seemed to have changed.", Moira remarked.

At 7pm, 6 kayakers were on shores. 5 kayakers were still on the water, rafted up in twos and threes, 9.3km apart, and drifting north with the Itbayat current. They wondered how the night was going to end.

Advance Team (AT) Responds (8/14)

noreply@blogger.com (fullmoon) — Sun, 26 Dec 2010 00:14:00 +0000

The 4-person AT crossing from Sabtang to Batan. Photo by Moira.

The AT reached Basco around 6pm. Near to Basco port they were puzzled by a morse code SOS signal created by a huge torchlight from the balcony of our base. Someone needed help at the base?

Amos thought it was some kind of late arrival joke. On the balcony, Joseph stood still waving his hand up and down the lights, marking the morse code routine from some training he received previously.

Once he saw the AT arriving, he sprinted down to the beach.

"Kat and Bimo are safe on Sabtang. YK and 2 other kayakers activated a pick up. He had texted me his location. No news from the other 2 kayakers.", Joseph blurted out in quick succession.

Sensing urgency in his voice, the AT quickly brought up the kayaks and held their first meeting on the first round of coffee.

Amos and Joseph would activate CPT Delfin with his ITRANSA to pick up the 3 kayakers who were caught in the Itbayat current, while Chan would clarify my status by attempting radio contact. The remaining 2 AT will monitor the sat phone and responds to new information coming through.

By 6.30pm, 30 minutes after the AT arrived and another hot cup of coffee, the evac boat was being prepared for launch. The 8 person strong boat crew, who had been out doing Chirstmas drinking at a local joint, was rounded up and sent out to sea in their stupor state. They perched themselves nonchalantly around the boat, still merry with the festive drinks.

The ITRANSA motored out from Basco just after 6.45pm.

CPT Delfin, who has a basic GPS unit, consulted with Amos on the trio's exact GPS coordinates.

"N20 27, E121 52, About 10km or 6 miles west of here", Amos shouted into CPT Delfin's ear.

It was almost an hour after their last known coordinates, they would have to look for lights in the vicinity.

CPT Delfin, in his early 50s, is a seasoned captain in these waters. He had advised us on the currents and tidal conditions on our first day.

'Tuklas', CPT Delfin thought when Amos told him the location. It was a well-known fishing ground but also known for its rough waters.

'Tuklas' also means Discovery in Ivantan.

CPT Delfin told his steersman to take aim in the darkness and screwed up his engine. The ITRANSA was immediately battered by the huge waves. Amos and Joseph instinctively reached out to steady themselves. One of the crew defied logic by climbing up to the roof, and started operating a search light, unbuckled.

The ITRANSA had to feel the waves in the darkness. Each time a huge wave approached, the steersman would pushed his engine to make sure the ITRANSA limbed over the crest, before easing back again for the slide. The search light illuminated the bursting sea spray when hardwood and waves collided in powerful contact.

Amos and Joseph had both hands and legs gripped to whatever they could handle. In front of the stoic rosy cheeks crew, they threw up involuntarily.

Meanwhile Chan rode pillion with a motorbike along the entire western coastline of Batan Island to try to get me on the radio. The motorbike zipped along the jagged cliff roads haphazardly. The road was one way depending on which vehicle was larger. At Mahatao, Ivana, Uyugan, on top of the Basco lighthouse, Chan was repeating the same transmission.

"Huey, do you copy?"

At Mahatao, Chan instructed the bike to head close to the shores. He repeated into his radio a few more times and intently scanned the sea for any signs of strobe or movement. The motorbike's bright headlight shone out to sea, illuminating endless water. In the distance he hoped the kayakers would be alright.

Somewhere around N20 27 E121 52, the trio of kayakers were hopping the ITRANSA would come soon. They were sure their text had gone through. But how long must they wait?

Inside The Sabtang Triangle (7/14)

noreply@blogger.com (fullmoon) — Sat, 25 Dec 2010 01:57:00 +0000

Giving a finger to the Sabtang Triangle. Photo by Moira.

"That was unfair! Breaking waves in the middle of the sea!", Moira was spot on, again!

"Bail Moira! Bail quick!", I shouted above the din of winds and waves.

"Where is the bailer?", she asked.

During the capsize, both the bailers had floated away. I ripped her bottle from her kayak deck and unclipped my knife.

"Can I have a sip before you destroy the bottle?", she asked.

Good sense…. here is your sip…now give me that bloody bottle! I cut and tore the bottle into half and passed them to Moira as bailers. I pulled hard on the sea sock to empty it of water.

"I need you to get between the kayaks, put a leg on the cockpit, get the balance, and slowly slide yourself in. Wait for the correct wave.", I slowly repeated the same instructions as last time.

I was shivering from the cold sea and my legs were being pulled by the strong waves. Once Moira was in, I immediately jumped back inside my still flooded kayak. I did not want to be in the water.

"Bail bail bail!", I shouted as the 2 of us jabbed at my flooded cockpit with the cut bottles.

"Bail, but don't pushed down my kayak. Moira, keep it still!", wave after wave continued to flood the kayak despite our constant effort.

It was clear the bailing was not working. It was also clear to me I needed to get out of the kayak, empty it, float it, before I should climb inside again. But there was no way I was going back into the freezing waves.

I thought of asking Moira to use a T-rescue to drain out the water, but it is not quite advisable to use this technique on a foldable. I kept on the useless bailing, hoping to see a decrease in water level. But wave after wave continued to smash into our kayaks.

"This is not working. I need to think. Let me think. Keep bailing.", I told Moira.

You dimwit Huey! This time you have really crossed the line… going out without a sprayskirt… who do you think you are to break the cardinal rules of expedition kayaking? What would you have said if one of them went out without a sprayskirt.

The problem was not whether I could think. The problem was whether I could do what was required, to swim into the cold waves again to drain out the kayak. The solution was clear as light. Bailing the kayak was just making excuses against reality.

It would be uncomfortable but it works, do it!

"Moira, I need you to listen to me carefully. I want you to completely dry out your kayak and seal your sprayskirt tight. Are there any water inside the sea sock? If so, pump them out now."

"I am going to jump inside the water and re-float the kayak. So I need you to be very buoyant and hold on tight to 3 things: my paddle, GPS, and radio. Do you understand? It is very important you stay upright, buoyant, and hold on to these 3 things."

"OK, got you.", she nodded her head and I jumped out of the kayak into the water.

Immediately the force of the waves attempted to separate me from the kayak. I deliberately capsized the kayak again. Now I just need to turn the kayak on its sides to drain out some of the water.

"Moira! Push! Help me!", I kicked hard to lift up the flooded kayak to its side.

Water rushed out of the cockpit and the kayak slowly turned. But a big wave flooded it again. I tried again and again, until I managed to just empty out half the water.

"Now bail, quick quick!"

I let Moira bail as I held on to the stern of the two kayaks. I could feel the impressive strength of the waves underneath on my legs. Each time a wave passed, we were cupped up high and left to slide.

I could not wait a second to get the back on the kayak.

Inside The Sabtang Triangle (6/14)

noreply@blogger.com (fullmoon) — Fri, 24 Dec 2010 13:35:00 +0000

photo by Moira

"Don't get yourself in front of big waves. Back paddle if you feel your kayak is sliding forward. Maintain stability over speed.", I told Moira.

The plan to paddle to Sabtang was to paddle hard, constantly, and maintaining stability in the waves. This was the only way I thought we could get out of the Triangle.

Whistle!

"Capsized!", Moria shouted.

I caught a side glance of her overturned kayak and her swimming in the waves. I quickly turned over her kayak and pulled hard at the sea sock, which will drain out all the water.

"Moira, stop grabbing and pressing on my kayak. I am sinking already. You have the PFD on. You can float. Now let go and go hold your kayak. Why you capsized?", was I a little pissed?

"Erm…I don't know…?", she answered.

"Actually I think it is better we are linked by rope. You can then reel me in for faster bailing.", Moira made another good suggestion. I wondered where my brain has gone to.

I reached inside my deckbag for my tow rope. Shit! I had used it to tie up kayaks during the portage and forgot to take it back. Then I remembered she was using Johnny's kayak.

"Johnny's got lots of ropes all over the place. Must surely have tow rope?"

"Yes behind my cockpit", she thumbed at the red bag hanging from the back of her cockpit.

I was thinking Johnny better cut it 10 meters with the carabiners as I asked him to. He stitched the bag himself (no joke!) but I had no time to admire it. I tied one end to the bow of Moria's kayak and hooked the carabiner to my PFD quick-release O-ring.

Now we are solid and we will push all the way to Sabtang.

Wacrassshed!

Minutes later, a huge 3 meter wave broke over us and capsized both our kayaks at the same time. I could not had anticipated the wave could be high enough to capsize both our 4.75 meter long kayaks at the same time. I had revised my plan that at least one kayak will always be buoyant and working.

Immediately my thoughts went to the GPS and radio, which I was using constantly and wedged between my thighs. I flipped the kayak and was relieved they were both still in the cockpit, swimming in water. I quickly grabbed them and stuff them into my deck bag.

Waves after waves crashed over us, and it was difficult to swim to Moira and her kayak. I needed her kayak, which was fitted with a waterproof sea sock, to re-float my kayak. Now this is how the freaking sea sock can be useful huey! I am never a fan of sea sock.

This double capsize was a psychological blow. We had lost all initiative... and now at the sea's mercy...

2 On Sabtang (5/14)

noreply@blogger.com (fullmoon) — Fri, 24 Dec 2010 00:55:00 +0000

Mayor Max Babalo of Sabtang (in white) paid a visit to our cave camp on Morong Beach on 17 Dec to offer assistance and encouragement.

He was also stuck on Batan Island for a day as the ferry was cancelled due to bad weather. Photo by Moira

7 minutes after I texted Chan, at 5.08pm, Bimo texted me "Kathy and Bimo are safe. we were drifted. we will stay at malakdang tourism office and head to basco in the morning."

Bimo also immediately called Joseph to update him of their location.

But I would only get to see Bimo's text the next morning when I checked my local phone. At 5.08pm, we must have paddled to an area for my local phone to get the cellphone signal, where there was none before.

According to Bimo, they decided to turn back sometime after 3pm. There were many good reasons to turn back that day, and everyone fully appreciate and understand their decision. In expedition paddling, good decision making and teamwork are infinitely more valued than skills or fitness. Bimo & Kat are excellent team mates and we would have done everything for them.

Bimo tried to raise us on the radio many times, but because of his 5w unit, there was no success. They continued to drift with the current and was pulled towards the Sabtang Triangle. Bimo kept telling Kathy they were drifting and had to be careful.

At 4pm, they reach the northern tip of Sabtang Island, just at the edge of the Triangle. They were less than 1.5km away from shores. They could see E9 and also other beaches along the coasts of Sabtang clearly. At 4.40pm, just as they were about to land on a sheltered cove, a boat came pass. The boat captain offered them a ride back to E5 (Sabtang Centro). They gladly took it as this means they don't have to rent a truck tomorrow to portage the kayaks back to E5.

Around 5pm, they reached Centro (E5), and were greeted warmly by the Mayor Babalo and much of the whole town. Everyone was in festive mood as the Mayor's 99 year old father was having a big birthday bash that night. Mayor Babalo warmly invited Bimo and Kat to Sabtang's big bash of the century!

At 5pm, Bimo and Kat were the first kayakers to hit shores. The AT was nearing Basco, the trio was drifting off course, and the search pair was about to enter the Sabtang Triangle.

The Last Supper (4/14)

noreply@blogger.com (fullmoon) — Thu, 23 Dec 2010 12:31:00 +0000

Our last supper at Mr Pinding's beach dining house near Morong Beach, Sabtang Island. Photo by Moira

"This looks like the last supper!", Kat said as we took our seats around the table. YK had laid one more set for a 12th person, but we have only have 11 on the team.

It was 17 Dec, a day before our crossing back to Batan Island. This was already our 3rd night and we had been waiting for the past 2 days for the wind to die down. Today it was still blowing 45km/hr. We aborted the crossing. But we had also ran out of ration. Almost all of our 160kg of rations were still in Manila, thanks for SEAIR. We had enough for 3 days, not 4.

SEAIR screwed up our schedule completely.

Normally we would not have gone out in a rush like we did when the kayaks arrived on 15 Dec. But high winds was predicted for 2 days from 16 Dec. If we did not leave on immediately we would have continued to wait at base. That leaves us with just 2 days before we leave Batanes.

We would rather wait it out on Sabtang Island.

Many kind locals had came to our help during this period of foul weather. Mr Figuera allow us the use of his sister's beach house when waves threatened to enter our cave camp. Mr Pinding allowed us the use of his complete kitchen and dining house, since we had also ran out of gas and food. It was not the same when he had served us dinner 2 days ago (lobsters, fish, beef, etc). Still, the dinner was sumptuous because Kat made a good Grouper soup, YK set a nice table, Amos did a killer omelette, etc. Outside it was so cold and so windy, we were glad to be inside the nice and warm dining hall.

"What's the story of the Last Supper?", we asked.

"Jesus's last meal with his Twelve Apostles?", Kat did not sound too religious.

"So the 12th person is going to walk in later?", someone joked.

"Yes, with a light on his head…haha", Kat concluded.

The chilling wind escaped and blew in from the open windows. Is this premonition?

The Sabtang Triangle (3/14)

noreply@blogger.com (fullmoon) — Wed, 22 Dec 2010 22:43:00 +0000

Our Expedition Route Chart showing E-points, tidal information, and islands. Sabtang Triangle's location is in orange.

Click to enlarge. Bimo made this wonderful map. Each of us carried 7 different maps and charts for the expedition.

From the air en route to landing at Basco airport, the SEAIR plane passes above the southern Batanes islands of Sabtang, Ibujos, and Deguey. At the window seat, one can clearly see on the northern side of Sabtang Island, even from the air, a constant churning of whitecaps on an otherwise flat surface of the sea at that vantage seat. The local boatmen knew about this patch of wild water and avoided it, especially during this period of the northeast monsoon.

"The waves can get up to 5 or 6 meters. If we steered our boats in, they slide back on the waves. Too rough.", CPT Delfin said.

Dave named this patch The Sabtang Triangle, since it was a place with giant waves, no comms, no cellphone signals, and possibly shipwrecks!

At 5.01pm, I decided to call off "Finding Bimo" before we got drifted further. There was 15mins of daylight left. I needed to update the AT our status. We were already out of radio range. I got out the local cellphone - no signal. And I got out the SG cellphone, and managed to get a weak GSM signal, so I hastily typed Chan a message: "Me n Moira heading Sabt. News frm Bumo?"

Chan was to receive this message almost 5 hours later at 9.46pm.

Once the message was sent, I felt more relieved that the AT would know we are OK and our plans. I looked up the GPS and it showed a reading of 5.75km towards E9, our cave camp, with a steady drift of 5km/hr southwest. I decided to head towards it.

"Bimo! Bimo!", I tried one last time to raise Bimo on the radio.

"Moira, keep close. I need your help to bail water out of my kayak. We are going for Sabtang. Are you OK for it?", I stated out my intentions.

"Yes, I will follow you!", she was almost unfazed.

I took an aim at Sabtang lighthouse and paddled forward.

"Need to bail!", I shouted after just a few minutes of paddle. My kayak was swamped in the huge waves. I look over the shoulders to see why she was taking so long to come to me (just a few seconds late actually..). The waves were now certainly over 3 meters high and her kayak was tossed all over. She better aim and flew beside me accurately otherwise she will crashed us both.

Moira came alongside to stabilize my kayak as I frantically bail out the water; and we were off again.

"Need to bail!", I shouted in just another few minutes, and we repeated the raft-up for bailing.

Suddenly, I saw a yellow light downwind towards the open sea. Could it be Bimo?

"Bimo!", I shouted into the radio.

The light was close and staring directly at us. I knew both of them had lost their strobes on the first night of surf landing. Could it be Bimo using his headlamp or torch for night kayaking?

"See the light? It could be Bimo. Let's paddle towards it.", I pulled alongside Moira's kayak.

"But Bimo is not using this type of light.", Moira's calm voice is still the same!

"Even if it is not them, a fishing boat also good for us!", I pushed away and started paddling down with the current. If it was really them...we can't let go of this chance.

The light was staring at us the whole time, unmoving and un-flickering. Waves around us obscured it now and then, but it was there. The light lulled and comforted, beckoning us further and further away from land.

Finding Bimo (2/14)

noreply@blogger.com (fullmoon) — Wed, 22 Dec 2010 10:33:00 +0000

Kat & Bimo almost completely obscured by huge swells.

"Bimo! Bimo!", I raised my radio high up, but not higher than the surrounding waves raging around me.

"Bimo! Bimo!", again I tried.

"YH, please try to get Bimo on the radio." YH was a distance behind and had a closer range to Bimo's last known location.

"Bimo! Bimo! Report!," YH's voice came over the radio.

On the shores of Batan, the advance team was listening to the radio chatter with some amusement and just the right concern. They took time doing some touristy stuff, finding places to pee, munching rations, and taking in the sights.

Sometime around 3.50pm, the advance team decided to head for Basco to set up base to coordinate the possibility of evacuation by boat. They took a further 2 hours of upwind paddling, reaching Basco at 6pm.

I had already stopped paddling and was drifting with the current, waiting for the last kayakers to catch up.

"Bimo! Bimo!", I tried again on the radio.

It was important to stay on the water, as a relay station between the last kayakers and the advance team. At 4pm, I decided to turn back to get a better range on the radio. Bimo was using a 5w radio and might not have heard my 6w unit (which has a longer range) calling him.

I asked Moria if she would follow. In this sea condition, a solo paddler is not quite safe.

There were 2 possibilities. The most preferred would be that they turned back to Sabtang due to the worsening conditions. The worst case would be they had capsized and drifted helplessly out with the strong currents.

Knowing them, I knew they could take care of themselves and maintained hopes they made the right choice. But in break contact like this, we just have to assume the worst case scenario. Another fellow paddler would do the same for us next time. So, we kept our paddles on deck and let our kayaks drift down with the currents.

On the way downwind, we met the trio of YH, K, and YK. They had been drifting badly and asked if the evac boat is already on standby.

"Yes, radio Chan as soon as you need to activate it. Or call Joseph. Head back to Sabtang as it is easier. Its your choice. We are going downwind to re-establish contact with Bimo. Good luck and see you later!", I said and we parted.

At 4pm, all 4 groups of kayakers were still on the water. The advance team was on their way to Basco, the trio was heading north trying to hit E10, and the search pair was drifting south downwind expecting to find Bimo and Kat.

Sabtang to Batan Crossing (1/14)

noreply@blogger.com (fullmoon) — Tue, 21 Dec 2010 22:28:00 +0000

The 'E9 cave campsite' on Morong Beach, Sabtang Island. My camera had already stopped working by now. Photo by Moira.

On 18 Dec, after 2 days of delay due to bad weather, we decided to paddle back to Basco. Because the surf at our cave campsite was still too big, we portaged the kayaks to the town center, where there was a sheltered harbor, for launch.

A crowd had gathered when the last kayaks was ferried in by our cement truck. Promptly, we set up the kayaks and within an hour we were heading towards Ivana (E10). It was a straightforward 6km channel crossing, followed by a 10km coastal paddle to Basco.

We had discussed this crossing with CPT Delfin, an experienced local boat captain when we arrived in Batanes. From his advice, we knew the currents were strong and flowed in different directions even inside the channel. The key is to avoid a left drift.

"Head for the comms tower.", I went around to each kayaker and told them the aiming point. The comms tower was much further right of where we needed to go.

The last kayaks left Sabtang at 12.35pm, still plenty of time for headwind paddling. By this time, an advance team consisting of 4 kayakers were well also on their way heading towards E10.

I was leading ahead the main group of 6 kayakers some distance forward. I would have stayed behind with the last kayakers, but my sprayskirt was ripped during the surf landing. Without a skirt, my kayak was frequently swamped. I needed to stop constantly to bail water and this slowed me down. I requested Moira to stay close to me, as a safety cover.

Each time I stopped to bail, I radioed YH and Bimo to check their progress.

"We are OK.", both YH and Bimo reported on one of the radio check.

By now I was getting too frequently swamped and it slowed me considerably. I tied my bilge pump to the cockpit, so that I can pump with one hand in-between strokes.

"All teams, report your position.", sometime around 3.30pm, I raised everyone on the radio.

"We landed on Batan, between E10 and E11.", Chan reported back.

"YH and Bimo, are you OK behind.", I radioed again.

"We are drifting badly towards Basco, request that we aim directly for base.", YH came on the radio, and I could hear howling winds.

"Negative. Maintain direction towards E10.", I replied.

"Ok roger that. Better stand by evac boat…the current is too strong. We are drifting badly.", YH radioed again, this time with some concern.

"Chan, ask Joseph to come to your location immediately.", I raised Chan.

"Bimo, are you OK?", I had not heard from him on this radio check.